


Listen before i go

by EmilieTulip



Category: Merlin (TV), Merlin - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood, Hurt Merlin, Hurt No Comfort, Innocent Merlin, Magic Revealed, Merlin/Arthur Friendship - Freeform, Merlin/Arthur if you squint - Freeform, Poor Merlin, Tragedy, and you don’t have to squint too hard, hurt Arthur, kinda dark arthur, merlin is too good for this world, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 16:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilieTulip/pseuds/EmilieTulip
Summary: Arthur hates magic.Merlin is an exception.Only, Merlin is not allowed to be an exception...
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 262





	Listen before i go

**Author's Note:**

> If I keep posting more fics, will you guys please listen to my music?
> 
> https://soundcloud.com/user-280507340/queens-of-the-crowd
> 
> Also, read the TAGS for TRIGGERWARNINGS

It wasn’t that Arthur had always known about Merlin’s magic, only, well... he had. From the moment he’d run into Uther’s council screaming that he was the real sorcerer, not Gwen, Arthur had known the truth. Small things started making sense. Stray branches from perfectly healthy trees falling to the ground just in time to hit a bandit or two. Steaming bathtubs full of water which stayed warm for longer than natural. Socks that were a little too clean.

The glint of gold in Merlin’s eye which he’d once thought was a reflection of the firelight or sun...

So he knew, and that was that. For weeks he’d watched the young sorcerer trip and bamboozle his enemies, wondering how he’d never figured it out before. The idiot was never exactly subtle. How Merlin still lived was entirely beyond his comprehension. Clearly he must have a death wish, to be openly practising magic in Camelot. To be openly practicing magic so close to Arthur.

It was after one particularly grating incident involving a swarm of flying tea-kettles, a kelpie, and Merlin, that Arthur finally snapped. Ignoring the carnage he swept back to his rooms in a flurry of outrage and, quite frankly, embarrassment. His cloak flew dramatically behind him, a streak of scarlet among grey stone. In one hand, Excalibur glinted. In the other, his bedraggled manservant yelped in injustice as he was pulled along by the ear.

‘Are you mad?’ He cried upon reaching his bedchamber. Merlin had been tossed ungraciously onto the floor, and Excalibur was resting pointedly out of reach.

‘Ouch, you prat!’ Merlin screeched, scrambling to his feet. ‘What was that for?!’

Arthur ignored him, throwing his hands in the air, ‘What if my father had seen?’

‘Seen what? I didn’t do anything!’

No matter what Merlin said, Arthur was not an idiot. He saw his servant’s eyes dart to his hip and then to Excalibur, seated far from Arthur’s reach. He saw the slight release of tension in his shoulders.

‘You’re not subtle, Merlin,’ Arthur chided, rolling his eyes. ‘I know about the magic.’

Merlin balked, eyes wide and startled.

‘What?’

‘Gold eyes? Falling trees? Magical beasts that can only be defeated by magic, simply dying?’

‘I don’t have—’

‘I’m not blind, Merlin. I see you...’

For a moment there was silence, neither one of them knowing how to play their next move. Something was static in the air. Maybe it was truth, revealed after years of hiding. Maybe it was the loyalty of two friends, equal in both devotion and fear. Perhaps it was magic, fizzling like a chord of destiny, ringing true.

Merlin made the first move. He dropped his gaze and fell to his knees.

‘Please,’ he whispered, ‘it’s all for you. Only for you.’

Arthur sighed, reaching for his friend but hesitating a hairs-breadth from touching.

‘Please,’ Merlin whimpered once more. ‘Don’t—’

‘I’d never hurt you.’

‘Don’t hate me.’

They’d spoken at once, each taking a moment to react to the others words. And react they did. The convicted lifted his eyes to stare at his prince in wonder. They were wide, blue and gold, and swimming with tears unshed. The prince recoiled from his best friend in hurt and horror. He’d expected the fear of death, not this gentle doubt of his loyalty and love.

‘Hate you?’ He exclaimed, voice cracking.

‘I just thought...’ Merlin trailed off, avoiding Arthur’s eyes.

‘How could I hate you? You’re Merlin.’

‘But I lied!’

Arthur barked a laugh, ‘Of courses you lied. You may be magical but it doesn’t mean you’re smart.’

‘Oi!’

‘Just promise me something,’ Arthur continued, gripping his friend firmly on the shoulders. ‘From here on, no more lies. If we do something, we do it together. As a team.’

Merlin sniffled, ‘Like the knights?’

‘More than the knights,’ he affirmed. ‘We’re family, okay?’

‘Okay,’ choked Merlin.

***

The next few months were bliss. Shared smiles and golden eyes. Unlike Merlin, Arthur was able to, ahem, manipulate the truth in a way where he didn’t come off as a blithering idiot. Without secrets, Merlin flourished. His magic grew alongside his confidence. It was almost inconceivable to imagine him a few months ago, anxious and touchy. The large grins were now smaller and more serene. He was, for lack of another term, more Merlin than he’d ever been before. Arthur’s heart softened in glee for his best friend.

In these few months he was happy; the golden prince to a warlock with golden magic. But life is tricky, and happiness can never last.

It wasn’t a sudden change, rather a creeping one. Arthur loved Merlin’s magic. It was natural and kind, but it was an exception. Sorcery was cruel, even if Merlin was not. He’d seen his men murdered before his very eyes by magic, and golden eyes were not only for golden princes. Merlin made attempts to justify all magic, but soon gave up. Arthur was cold to the topic. Merlin was good and innocent and true, but magic was evil.

Why then, did Merlin’s magic seem the exception? It hadn’t corrupted him, that was true, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t. Uther had constantly stressed the manipulative ways of magic. Could it be that Merlin’s magic wasn’t only manipulating Arthur, but Merlin himself? How could Arthur allow him to be the exception to a just law?

Through all of the princes tremulous contemplation, Merlin remained kind and loyal, but his smile grew smaller and more concerned.

‘My magic is for you,’ he would tell Arthur, not realising how troubling his words were.

Arthur did not want his magic. It was wrong for anyone to have such power, least for all Arthur. There was only one solution for this. In order to avoid corruption, Arthur would have to stay away from Merlin’s magic. He wouldn’t use it, nor would he see it or speak of it. It would be like before, when they’d lived in bliss and ignorance.

Only it wasn’t like before.

Merlin’s eyes grew sadder and his smile smaller still. This pained Arthur, but it was necessary in order to remain untarnished by evil. Each day stretched longer and longer. The skies grew greyer and Arthur smiled when Merlin conjured bright blue butterflies.

He smiled. It was strange how something as innocent as a butterfly could be his undoing. But then again, was it? Arthur wouldn’t become an asset to magic through violence and bloodshed. As an honourable prince, he would only be turned by something small and kind. Like a butterfly. Like Merlin.

It wasn’t the servant’s fault. He was riddled with such a cruel curse, and had grown naive to its true nature. If he allowed Merlin to be the exception to his laws, there would be no end to it. Arthur would turn. He would repel the ban on magic.

With a heavy heart, he rode into the forest. At one side Excalibur was sheathed, glinting in the sunlight. By his other side, a sorcerer rode, smiling and prattling on about various herbs. Arthur glanced at him. Merlin’s eyes were a fresh blue, not infected with that deadly gold. He didn’t want to lose that blue. Not to corruption.

It was by the lake of Avalon that he finally pulled his horse to a stop. Beside him, Merlin stilled. He was looking at the lake with something akin to longing. Arthur couldn’t help but wonder what ghosts this place held for him. In silence, they dismounted, tying their horses by the water to drink.

‘We’re at Avalon,’ Merlin broke the silence.

Arthur snored, ‘Observant as always.’

Merlin did not smile. His eyebrows were pinched together as he stared at his friend.

‘You brought Excalibur.’

It was not a question.

‘Yes.’

‘Are you–’ he stumbled, blinking those blue eyes. ‘Are you throwing it back in the lake?’

Arthur sighed, ‘No.’

‘Oh...’

The silence was crippling now. Arthur wanted to rasp out some explanation or apology, but he knew it was pointless.

‘You’re my best friend, Merlin.’ He admitted, speaking the honesty that nobility had always denied him.

‘I know,’ Merlin replied. ‘You’re mine, too.’

‘I don’t want this. You must understand I don’t want this.’

For a while, his friend did not answer. He seemed to be drinking in the breeze, the ripple of the lake, the sunbeams on his pale skin. Then, with a release of breath he nodded.

‘It’s okay, Arthur.’

‘It’s not okay. You’re a sorcerer, Merlin. You’re wonderful and good, but you’re still magic! And I can’t... I can’t allow you to be an exception.’

Merlin sniffled in the sunlight, ‘You’re everything, Arthur. You’re my world and my friend, whatever your choice...’

‘You’re magic and I’m the prince. You mean more to me than anyone else, you must understand this. I beg of you to understand this once thing–’

‘I do, it’s okay.’

‘–but it’s not natural. I can’t allow it anymore, Merlin. It’s not right.’ 

He was crying. There was no denying it. Maybe it wasn’t very princely or strong, but if any man was worth his tears it was the sorcerer in front of him. The same one who stood by Arthur in every decision he made. The same friend who stood willingly in front of him now, surrendering to a heartless execution.

‘I forgive you,’ Merlin choked. He stumbled forward, pulling his friend into a hug. They collapsed to their knees, the damp of the grass sweeping through their clothes.

‘How?’ Arthur begged.

Merlin’s lips twitched, ‘I’ll always forgive you. I just hope one day you’ll forgive yourself.’

Arthur shook as Merlin’s spindly fingers entwined with his own. It took his a few seconds to realise they were guiding him towards his sword.

‘I can’t...’ Arthur whimpered.

He was shaking in Merlin’s hold. Merlin, who was steady and unafraid in the face of Arthur’s decision.

‘You have to,’ Merlin affirmed. ‘It was your choice. Your sentence to pass.’

‘I know,’ Excalibur was out of its sheath now. Despite everything, he felt Merlin tense in his arms. ‘But it hurts...’ 

Merlin let out a breath. A ghost of a laugh.

‘Arthur,’ he gasped as blue eyes flashed gold. ‘It’s going to get so much worse.’

It was that stupid gold which did it. His hand thrust forward; a reaction so ingrained in his training that Arthur barely noticed it passed. It was only the broken whimper (and gods he’d never wanted to know Merlin could make such a noise) which alerted him to Excalibur, buried deep within his best friends stomach.

‘No,’ he breathed, catching his limp servant before he fell backwards.

There was so much blood. It seemed to be taking every possible exit route, through the stomachs, mouth, and even nose. How could such a small body hold so much of the stuff? Merlin’s eyes were wide and searching, seeking Arthur yet oblivious to his presence. He choked, a stark splash of red striking Arthur’s cheek. Arthur flinched. His friends eyes were wide and blue and innocent.

‘Arthur,’ Merlin shuddered, finally finding his prince in the fading light. ‘Arthur...’

By the lake of Avalon, in the bright sun of day, the prince of a broken prophecy pulled his best friend close as he fell still. He didn’t notice the blue butterfly as it exploded into golden flakes. He didn’t see how the girl from the lake stood in horror, watching as the boy she loved breathed his last. He didn’t hear the cry of a dragon or the screams of the Druids. He only noticed as his best friend’s chest stopped moving and blue eyes fluttered closed for the last time. Merlin was so small in his arms.

‘What have I done?’   


**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by a nightmare I had where my lizard befriended a worm and then felt like he was unnatural, so he told the worm he’d have to eat him and the little worm was like ‘it’s okay you’re my best friend’ and then norbert ate the worm and was devastated. I kept crying at work because I don’t want my baby upset.


End file.
